Before the Sparrow
by cmiley.maia
Summary: The back story of Captain Teague and Jack Sparrow's Mother from their initial meeting to potentially her shrunken headed-ness. How did any woman steal the heart and dedication of the infamous Pirate Lord of Madagascar?
1. Once upon a time in Lisbon

**Heya guys! This is my first crack at a POTC fanfic!**

**POTC does not belong to me! But some of these characters do.**

**Here is my imagining of the story of how Jack Sparrow came to be (as it were)**

**Happy Reading!**

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The city of Lisbon settled into the night as sunset became sundown and the moon rose high above the port. Nobles, beggars and merchants alike made rest for the day as they retired into their evening solitude and to the casual eye all trade ceased; ready to resume again once dawn approached.

However should one head down to the docks and the surrounding abodes they would discover that when night enveloped Lisbon the harbour came alive with the sailors and tradesmen from all corners of the known world all of whom were making the most of their precious time upon solid ground. Universally with other ports of call and trade these seafaring individuals descended upon the taverns and inns that hosted copious amounts of rum, ale, music and all other kinds of entertainment.

In one such institution, _O Maestro Quebrado_, a young woman of nineteen was heatedly arguing with her uncle in rapid Portuguese, her voice raised in such a way that she be heard over the din downstairs from the tavern bar.

"Tio the sailor was simply drunk! I did not encourage him and he was refusing to acknowledge my repeated dismissal of his advances!"

"Ha! To my eye my niece was fornicating with a dirty pirate like a common tavern whore! This is what happens when there is no mother to guide you! Why does the lord test me so with your impertinence?"

"There was no impertinence Tio!"

The girl's uncle stared coldly at her.

"Lúcia when I entered the room you were precariously sprawled across his lap as he expressed those foul words. Do not think my English is so bad that I do not understand what he said! It is the English blood that taints a person's morals and virtues…"

"The same English blood I have from my mother you mean?"

"Perhaps you should return there if you mean to defend it so?"

Lúcia blanched as shock spread across her features. Regaining the ability to speak she fixed her uncle with a glare.

"There was nothing there for Mother and there will be nothing there for me."

"Well there is nothing left for you here. You have repeatedly refused to marry and I fear your blasphemous ways mean that the convent will be your only chance for redemption. As it is I have fulfilled my promise to my brother in providing for you these many years."

"And have I not earned my keep?"

"You have" Said her uncle grudgingly. He scrutinized the defiant expression of his niece carefully and came to a decision. "But there will soon come a time where you are no longer my responsibility. See to it that when that day comes you are prepared for the consequences." He sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I shall make enquiries at the convent tomorrow".

Lúcia roughly removed his hand from her shoulder and ran from the room, through the tavern and out to the harbours edge, staring into the surface of the calm water until her anger had abated somewhat and her breathing had steadied. Her reflection was mirrored back at her and her features settled into that of determination; a look she had seen often on her mother's face before her untimely death.

She often had been told that she was a perfect mix of both her parents with her features resembling those of her English mother and her colouring the typical darkness of her Portuguese father. Her face was slightly broader and her nose more pert then could be considered conventionally beautiful however her softly rounded lips, long eyelashes and defined cheekbones somewhat balanced this out. Some people called her 'exotic' whilst others who were less kind had dismissed her mixed ethnicity as unnatural and perhaps had been a major factor in the certain toughness and fiercely independent nature Lucia had developed over the years; a result of not completely belonging to either country.

She began to form a plan as she absentmindedly re-wound the tie that held together side swept braid currently restraining her thick, tumbling curls. To her mind a convent was a poorly disguised, yet admittedly more respectable, prison. The thought of remaining confined to any one place always had made her feel distinctly nauseous.

Lúcia stood up and began to wander back towards the tavern. She would tell her uncle that she would refuse to join a convent or, she shuddered, marry one of his distinctly too old friends as he had previously suggested on more than one occasion. However she would tell him that she could no longer stay at _O Maestro Quebrado. _Perhaps she would take up a position as a governess? Her grasp of languages and geography would surely be of use? Maybe she would even leave Portugal and travel to one of the lands her father had described to her… Italy perhaps?

Lúcia's musings were interrupted by a muffled cry of pain from the alley to her right. Silently she slipped the small dagger she always carried from the garter on her left thigh that it rested in and crept towards the commotion, crouching behind one of the giant barrels that stood by the alley's opening. In the relative gloom of the lantern light she made out three figures; two were dressed in the uniform of the East India Trading Company and the other, who was clearly in pain, was knelt before them clutching at his torso and attempting to get his breath back.

"I swear it! Bloody Teague is dockin' in Lisbon tonight! I 'eard it from two of the dock rats who 'eard it from the cap'n who be doin' business wiv 'im tonight!"

"Be that as it may Mister Culver the individual we were looking for was not at the location you provided; information that we exchanged for a rather substantial remuneration might I add."

"And the Commodore is not happy. You can be sure of that. He has personally insisted that we deal with your deception accordingly as a warning to any other liars and fools who see fit to make a mockery of the East India Trading Company…"

Before the man could reply a figure dropped into the alley. Lúcia gasped as the newcomer raised his sword and knocked the two men out cold with the hilt before they had even had time to react to his presence. The unfortunate 'Mister Culver' however had no such qualms and made a break for the alley opening. The newcomer seemed to sigh and pulled out a pistol which he aimed directly at the staggering man as he cocked the trigger.

"MISTER CULVER!"

Mister Culver stopped dead and, trembling, turned slowly to face the assailant. The newcomer walked slowly down the alley, passing through the lantern light as he went. Lúcia's eyes widened as she took in his appearance. He was undeniably an imposing figure; handsome in a slightly grizzled kind of way yet most of his allure came from the assuredness with which he held himself. This man, she realized, was undoubtedly a pirate from the three cornered hat that sat upon the long dreadlocked hair that she sometimes had seen the dark traders sporting when they brought exotic goods to the harbour to the heavy buccaneer boots and weather beaten long coat. Somehow the result was more intimidating then she thought could ever be achieved by even the pristine military uniform of the higher members of the royal navy; she couldn't blame Mister Culver for quaking in his boots at the sight of him.

"You know, that's the smartest move you've made all night Mister Culver. If you had kept on running I would have had to shoot you…"

From somewhere, perhaps due to the implication that he was not being shot immediately, Mister Culver regained the ability to speak.

"Please! I didn't mean nuthin' by it! I'm a good man what's just tryin' to make my way in the world! I knew you was gonna' thwart 'em as it were. Please Mister!"

"I'm sure you mean Captain…"

Culver's eyes widened in terror

"I meant Captain! Of course I did! _Please_ Captain Teague!"

Lúcia's heart skipped a beat as understanding dawned on her. The man no more than ten feet away from her was none other than the infamous Captain Teague, the most fearsome pirate of the modern world! Over the past few years she had heard many a story at the tavern of his exploits all of which had been told by sailors in hushed tones as though they feared the possibility that he might hear of their disclosure and seek them out. She knew from the merchants that the shipping route between Europe and India was famed for its perils due to Teague's pillaging of vessels in those waters. Involuntarily she crouched lower into her hiding place.

"Well Mr Culver on account of the fact that I'm in a particularly generous mood momentarily I won't be killing you tonight on one condition."

"Anythin' Captain!"

"You tell all the other miserable, weasley, dog hearted traitors out there that they'd best think twice about trying to cross Captain Teague because he has sworn that from this day on should he catch them, and trust me when I say I will, they will be shot dead before they even have the time to consider dropping to their worthless knees and begging him for his forgiveness."

"I swear it Sir! I will!"

"Good. Now go."

Teague gestured with his pistol causing Mr Culver to flinch comically before gathering his wits and scrambling out the alley. Lucia held her breath as she waited for the pirate to leave. Footsteps moved towards her yet instead of bypassing her they stopped directly by her hiding place.

"Stand up girl" said the captain in badly accented Portuguese .

Lúcia panicked as she realised the pirate must have seen her watching. Gathering all her courage she slowly stood and turned to face him, hiding the dagger behind her back. Captain Teague appraised her defiant expression for a moment with an unreadable look.

"Your name?"

"Why do you need it?"

"So you speak English. A woman who speaks like an Englishman but doesn't look like one. Now that's interesting. Well love the way I see it you know my name so it only seems fair."

Lúcia hesitated for a moment before relenting.

"Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques"

"Aye? That's a lot of names for a tavern wench."

"Sir I am not a tavern wench…"

"And I am not a 'Sir'. Well Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques how's about you tell me why exactly you were spying on me?"

"I wasn't spying! I just heard noises and came to investigate as it sounded like someone was in trouble..."

"Is that so? And may I ask what exactly you were planning on doing about it if they were?"

She remained silent but clutched the dagger tighter. Teague sighed.

"Look love will you lighten up a bit? You seem like a clever one so you should be bright enough to have worked out that if I was intending on hurting you I would 'ave done so by now right? So put that bloody dagger down! Yes the one behind you back, I know it's there…"

Lúcia slowly lowered the dagger down to her side, keeping her eyes on Teague's face. He smirked in satisfaction.

"Ok love now that we've sorted that out do you mind telling me if that piece of seascum, or Mister Culver as he's known to you and I, knows who you are?"

"I, I don't think so but then I don't exactly blend in around here. I don't think he saw me though…"

"Right. Well in that case feel free to take your leave Lucia Maria Catalina de Marquez. And might I suggest that you keep this little rendezvous to yourself?"

Lúcia opened her mouth to answer but movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Clearly as they had been talking several East India Trading Company officials had crept across the wharf and loaded their muskets which were now aimed directly towards herself and Teague. Instinctively she grabbed Teague's arm and hauled him into the shelter of the alley seconds before all hell broke loose. The Barrels she had been hiding behind shattered under the onslaught of gunfire. Before she had time to think she felt a strong pair of arms envelop her and found herself being dragged down the alley and out into the other side of the row of buildings. They ran down the street and circled back towards the harbour as the noise of footsteps in pursuit grew in number. Suddenly Teague stopped and pulled her into a dingy tavern that she never had before entered. It was completely empty aside from the barman who nodded grimly at the pirate before pulling aside the run in front of the smoky hearth and lifting the floorboards to reveal a damp tunnel below. Teague lowered himself down then looked back at Lúcia somewhat questioningly before reaching out his hand towards her.

She momentarily hesitated as she glanced back the door leading to the street from where the sound of soldiers was becoming increasingly louder. Making her mind up she nodded at the bartender and lowered herself down into Teague's arms as the trapdoor shut and they were enveloped in darkness.

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**Hate it? Love it? Let me know so I can decided whether to continue with it or not.**


	2. The Misty Lady

**Okay People Chapter 2! Big shout out to Clara who really helped me out with Lúcia's name! Being Irish Portuguese does not exactly come naturally to me so she's been a star!  
**

**POTC does not belong to me! But some of these characters do.**

**Here is my imagining of the story of how Jack Sparrow came to be (as it were)**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

As Lúcia's eyes adjusted she began to make out shapes in the gloom. Further down the tunnel she could see a dull light which she guessed was moonlight spilling through from perhaps a grate in the street above. She began to ask Teague where the tunnel led to and nearly jumped out of her skin when he put his hand over her mouth, none too gently, and raised a finger to his lips making a soft shushing noise. Getting the picture she frowned and slowly crept after him as they began to make their way down the hidden passage. At a guess she would say it was leading towards the ocean however is was hard to be certain as her bearings appeared to be a little off underground.

Footsteps grew louder above them and Teague stopped suddenly causing Lúcia to bump into the arm he had held out across the passage way. Biting back a cry of pain she glared at him. Teague however paid her no attention as he silently pulled out a pistol which glinted fearsomely in the dull moonlight. Still as statues they waited until the footsteps passed over them before Teague began once again to lead down the tunnel; Lúcia let out the breath she hadn't realise she had been holding. As her eyes continued to adjust navigating the tunnel became easier. An indeterminate length of time passed as the tunnel grew damper and the noises of the city were left behind them. In fact, she thought to herself, it was almost as if she could hear a soft 'wooshing' noise. More time passed and then finally the opening that indicated the end of the tunnel appeared, distinctively lighter than the darkness she had become accustomed to, though to call it an opening would be generous, it was more like a crevice…

Lúcia's suspicions were confirmed as she emerged, after Teague, from what appeared to be the face of one of the cliffs that flanked the city. Astounded she followed Teague as he navigated his way around a series of rocks and boulders that she supposed was what hid the tunnel entrance from the eyes of those who were not aware of it before they emerged into a narrow cove. As the first signs of dawn began to appear over the ocean she could see a small boat bobbed gently in the waves that lapped up onto the shore. Teague turned to face her.

"Well then love. I'll row you around to a cove where you should be able to get back to the port."

Lúcia stared at him for a moment.

"You mean to send me back?"

"What else is it that you mean to do? Follow me into piracy?"

"Well I can't go back!"

"And why is that?" he growled.

Lúcia fixed him with a glare before answering.

"Firstly I don't expect my uncle will allow me to return now that I've been away all night helping a notorious pirate escape."

"You were planning on telling him about that part?"

"No but I expect the East India Trading Company will. It's not like it will be hard to find me seeing as at least four of them got a good look at my face!"

Teague grimaced as Lúcia continued.

"However as luck would have it I was planning on leaving anyway."

"Is that so? Unfortunately for you I have it on good account that it's terrible bad luck to bring a woman aboard…"

"I saved your life!"

"You were spying on me!"

"I was investigating! And I did save your life; you would have been blown to smithereens like those barrels if I hadn't pulled you down that alley with me!"

They glared at each other stubbornly until Teague huffed.

"Get in the boat…"

Lúcia grinned.

"You'll let me join you?"

"I'll give you _passage_ to anywhere on our route to Singapore."

"Thank you Teague!"

"It's _Captain_ Teague to you and everybody else for that matter. And don't expect to be treated like a high and mighty lady on the voyage! Keep quiet, make yourself useful and don't be a nuisance if you think you can manage that!"

Lúcia chose not to dignify that with an answer and instead swung herself into the boat. Teague glanced heavenward before pushing the boat out to deeper water then settling himself in with the oars and he began to row. Both occupants of the boat resolutely ignored the uncomfortable silence that had descended upon the simple vessel as Teague occupied himself with methodical rowing and Lucia took in the vast ocean that lay before them. As the boat crept round the edge of the cliff she could make out an enormous shadowy shape that was rising and falling with the movement of the ocean in the dawn light. It was, she realized, a boat. No not a boat…

"Your ship?" she asked breaking the silence.

"The Misty Lady" Teague grunted in response.

As they drew closer Lúcia began to make out the details of the ship she was about the board. The wood from which it was made had an unusual, eerie reddish tone to it and worn sails billowed in the sea breeze. As they approached she realised that the bow of the boat was adorned with an intricate figurehead of a mermaid however perhaps the most imposing element of the vessel was the flag that flapped gently upon the mast; black as night and adorned with a skeleton piercing a heart. She suddenly became acutely aware that this was the pirate ship of the most feared pirate of the seven seas and tried desperately to maintain her mask of composure as she attempted to push aside the unwanted, imminent feelings of doubt.

"Last chance to turn back love."

Had he sensed her discomfort? Pulling herself together she turned to face him and asked brazenly "So how do we go about boarding this vessel?"

Teague slowly nodded doubtfully without taking his eyes off her expression. A sudden splash made her jump and she turned quickly to see that a rope ladder had apparently been flung down the side of the hull.

"Ever climbed a Jacob's Ladder Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques?"

"There is no need for that _Captain_ Teague." Teague grinned at her.

"As you wish. Well then _Miss_ de Marquez have you ever climbed a Jacob's ladder?"

"No. But I'm not afraid" said Lúcia a little too fast.

Teague appraised her for a moment.

"It can be a little slippery. I'll go first on the account that firstly I don't especially feel like being landed on should you fall" he ignored her protestations and continued "and secondly I don't expect you fancy being shot dead the moment you set foot on board which is what I can guarantee will happen if they don't immediately see that you are doing so with the explicit leave of their Captain Teague."

Unable to argue with this logic she allowed Teague to climb over her and begin to ascend the rope ladder. As he neared the top she took a deep breath and began to copy his actions. It was, she admitted to herself, more difficult then she had anticipated. As Teague had warned her, the rope and surface of the ship's hull were indeed somewhat slippery; a fact that was in no way aided by the breeze that caused the rope to rock slightly to the side as she climbed. Teague disappeared over the top and she could just make out the mutterings of men's voices over the sound of the wind and creaking of the rope. She reached the surface of the deck and came face to face with a scarred man who appraised her with a stony expression. Nevertheless he proceeded to assist her safely on board and Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques found herself standing on the deck of the Misty Lady surrounded by a crew of inquisitive, and somewhat gnarled, pirates. Teague, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Miss de Marquez is it?"

Unable to speak Lúcia simply nodded. The scarred man turned to address the rest of the crew.

"Right. Listen up you lot! The Cap'n has advised me that he and Miss de Marquez have an accord in which she is to be given free passage as far as India. None of you good for nothin' sea dogs is to harass her lest you wish for a one way voyage to Davy Jones' Locker courtesy of Captain Teague. "

He slowly looked round the faces of the pirates and, apparently satisfied, nodded once.

"Now back to work. _All_ of you!"

The crew slowly dissipated and the man turned back to Lúcia with a disapproving look.

"Right girly you'd best follow me."

Without waiting for her response he marched down the deck of the ship towards the cabins. Hurriedly Lucia followed him trying her best to ignore the curious glances from the other crew members. The man held open a low doorway for her which she quickly ducked through to find herself in a small cabin that appeared to contain several wooden boxes of cargo, chests and a crude hammock. Dull light streamed through the single frosted glass window. The scarred man followed her in and closed the door before turning to evaluate her once more.

"Well isn't this an unusual set of circumstances in which we find ourselves. I think you must realise that Captain Teague isn't renowned for his hospitality and generosity when it comes to the good law abiding people of the official ports…" he paused for a moment as if waiting for enlightenment. When it became apparent that she was not going to answer he continued "however be rest assured that though we be pirates every scunner on this here vessel is a man of honour, or at least not of dishonour. The Captain sees to that as he takes the code very seriously. Indeed upon my word he does."

"What code?"

"You know not of the pirate code? As laid down by Morgan and Bartholomew?"

Lúcia shook her head.

"I didn't know pirates abided by a code…"

"Well now you do. And I suggest that you endeavour to… enlighten yourself. It will assist you on this voyage lass you mark my words. Now despite my own feelings about having a woman aboard the Captain has seen fit to uphold whatever agreement you two have arranged…" he sniffed with apparent displeasure before continuing "you will remain in this cabin whilst we ready to launch as we need to be sailing into open waters before full daybreak. Indeed it is yours for the remainder of your journey. I will be back later with some more acceptable bedding but for the time being I suggest you get some rest."

He gestured to the hammock then turned to leave. As he opened the door Lúcia forced herself to ask "might I ask you your name Sir?" He looked over his shoulder at her with an expression of reluctant amusement.

"I think you can be doing away with all the 'Sirs' and the like; you surely won't find any man who welcomes the title on this ship. I answer to McGregor on account of Jonathan being a little too grand for my purposes. Ask any soul between here and India about First Mate McGregor and they will know of him; that I can promise you Miss de Marquez." With that McGregor turned and made his way back onto deck where he proceeded to holler orders at the crew, his bellowing muffled by the closing of the heavy door.

Lúcia sank onto one of the wooden chests as a sudden wave of exhaustion overwhelmed her. Upon reflection she realised that she hadn't slept a wink since the previous night, she always had been an early riser and clearly the drama of the past twenty four hours was beginning to take its toll. Lucia clambered into the hammock and closed her eyes, it was surprisingly comfortable. Still, she considered, never in her wildest dreams had she thought that the day would end with her sailing to a foreign world on the pirate ship of the most fearsome Captain of the high seas!

Fearsome. Now that was an interesting point. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that something wasn't quite… right. The Captain Teague of the stories she had before heard had been described as ruthless, unforgiving, immoral, cruel and even wicked; sailors would swear blind that he was a debauched criminal who took all he could and left no survivors…

It struck her then. No survivors? A man like _that _would surely never have let the wretched Mister Culver live after his betrayal and the two officers of the East India Trading Company had clearly meant to kill Teague first. Though thinking back Teague hadn't exactly killed them either! No, she remembered, he had floored them with a knock from the hilt of his sword when he could just as easily have run them through with the other end of that very same weapon. And what of herself? The infamous Captain Teague of legend would not have allowed eavesdropping to go unpunished much less helped her escape the wrath of the officials and her uncle by allowing her free and undisturbed passage aboard his ship even if he felt he owed her a debt.

It was almost as if he were… honourable. Devious, wild and imposing yes and the man was clearly a pirate to his boots, with all the traits that accompanied that title, but not the murderous brute of legend. Feeling a little safer she allowed that final thought to sink in as darkness and fatigue consumed her.

* * *

First Mate McGregor entered the Captain's cabin to find Teague leaning over the charts of Africa and her surrounding oceans that were laid out across his desk. To the untrained eye he was methodically plotting out coordinates and routes however after years of camaraderie McGregor had honed the ability to detect the subtle tells that suggested Captain Teague was fixated upon or agitated by something; the slight crease in his brow, the way his eyes narrowed and the weight of his hand upon the charts. Not to mention the open bottle of rum on the desk. McGregor coughed then, when Teague did not verbally respond, began his report.

"She's ready to sail Cap'n. Bearing due south if I have your leave to cast off?"

Teague grunted in response. Ascertaining that permission had indeed been granted McGregor made for the door. He had hoped to pry some information out of Teague regarding the young woman he had brought aboard. Truth be told the curiosity was gnawing away at him; never in the history of his service with Teague had he allowed a woman, at least of the non-pirating variety, aboard his ship. Even the wenches of the ports they frequented were not permitted to board the _Misty Lady _with Teague instead choosing to enter the town, though he tended to retain a low profile when doing so. No, thought McGregor, something significant had happened and he was going to keep a weather eye open for any indication as to what that might have been.

The cabin door closed and Teague settled into the intricately carved wooden chair he had 'liberated' from the Spanish court. He took a swig of rum then slowly swilled the bottle around as his other hand tapped the table; the daylight was dulled by the stained windows so the exotic rings on his fingers and the glass rum bottle glinted in the light of the candle that was alight atop his desk.

Captain Edward Teague silently prided himself on his objectivity. He was astute and intelligent enough to realize that sentiment was not constructive to successful leadership. Having been born and raised in piracy Teague had sworn at a young age that he would be the most efficacious and revered pirate to sail the seas of the ever growing known world however piracy by its very nature was treacherous, mutinous and above all dangerous. Teague had combatted this by maintaining a certain level of personal objectivity in regards to his craft so that his judgement not be clouded and above all respected the code that dictated and maintained the honour of piracy. This combination had resulted in his position as the most feared and respected pirate currently on the account with a measure of unquestionable command that no other pirate captain had achieved before.

So why, he thought as he slowly drank another mouthful of rum, was there currently a young woman in the storage cabin of his ship? She would serve absolutely no purpose on board and indeed could even be an unwelcome distraction to his wench-starved crew! He was, he concluded, simply repaying a debt upon his honour as a code abiding pirate, he allowed himself a smirk as the irony of that thought sunk in. Still, he grudgingly admitted to himself, there was something about this Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques that was mildly stirring his curiosity. He'd had more than enough experience of the feminine form to know that she was truly attractive; in an unconventional way admittedly but then he always had been drawn to the remarkable…

He shook his head and took another chug of rum before corking the bottle and preparing to move out onto the deck. Clearly he needed the fresh air to clear his thoughts. As far as he was concerned the sooner Miss de Marquez left _The Misty Lady _the better!

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**As always let me know what you think! This story is for your enjoyment as well as my own so feedback is always appreciated.**


	3. Surreality

**Okay People Chapter 3 (FINALLY)!**

**POTC does not belong to me! But some of these characters do.**

**Apologies for the delay; I had a serious case of writers block…**

**Happy Reading!**

Orange light streamed through the murky glass panels of the cabin window casting a hazy, warm glow that reflected somewhat the sweltering temperature of the room. The vessel rocked with the movement of the ocean causing Lúcia's hammock to swing with increasing vigour and the muffled sounds of labour on deck could be heard through the wooden walls. Perhaps it was the heat or the unfamiliar movement of the hammock but Lúcia woke up entirely disoriented.

_Dios but my neck is stiff! What on earth is the time? Oh Tio is going to KILL me if I am late again…_

At the thought of the tavern the memories of the previous evening began to flood back to her. As realization hit her she gasped and bolted upright; a mistake as it turned out as the movement unfortunately coincided with the tilt of the ship causing the hammock, with great gusto, to swing uncontrollably and unceremoniously dump Lúcia in a heap on the cabin floor.

Swearing under her breath in Portuguese, Lúcia picked herself up and began to brush down her clothing. Apparently she had been too exhausted or overwhelmed the night before but her dress was completely ruined she realised with irritation.

_Although I shouldn't be surprised really I suppose. I was caught in a crossfire, ran away from armed officers, crept around the underbelly of Lisbon, scaled a cliff tunnel, climbed a Jacob's Ladder and slept in a hammock on a pirate ship…_

Sighing she ran her hands over her head and ascertained that her hair was equally distressed. She undid the tie at the bottom of her braid and began to comb out her unruly, tumbling waves with her fingers whilst properly examining the cabin. Someone must have come in whilst she was sleeping because a heavy jug of water and a canvas bag rested upon one of the wooden crates. Overcome with sudden thirst she immediately chugged down a good part of the, admittedly warmish, water then used the rest to wash her face. She opened the bag to find a hunk of hard bread which she gratefully began to tear and eat enthusiastically. Judging by the light it must be getting on for sundown which meant she must have slept the entire day! She put down the canvas bag, stood up and began to gently twist and stretch in an attempt to counter some of the stiffness in her joints.

_How far have we come I wonder? Judging by the movement of the ship we must be a decent way out to sea by now…_

As if in response the Misty Lady gave a particularly vigorous tilt. As she tried to regain her balance Lúcia felt the contents of her stomach churn horribly. She threw her hand over her mouth and unthinkingly thrust open the cabin door, ran across the deck and threw up impressively over the side of the ship. As she clutched the wooden railing and tried to regain her composure she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Let it out lass. That won't be the last time you experience the wonders of sea sickness before you acquire your sea legs. Trust me you'll be feelin' better for it…"

Lúcia let the cool, sea breeze wash over her for a moment and felt the blood come back to her cheeks as her nausea and dizziness subsided. Taking a deep breath she turned slowly and steadily smiled at First Mate McGregor.

"Thank you Si… Mr McGregor, but I'm quite okay now."

"Just McGregor lass there's no need for the 'Mister' but it's an improvement to be sure…"

He appraised her for a moment and nodded with grudging approval.

"It seems like you've steadied yourself. A life at sea is no' for the faint hearted and ye appear to have managed your first toss better than most; many a man on this vessel was sick as a dog for the most of his first voyage!"

McGregor turned sharply and glared at a group of pirates who had been unabashedly eavesdropping nearby all of whom instantly wiped their smirks from their faces and continued scrubbing the deck and mast.

"McGregor?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are we?"

"Sailing towards the Gulf of Gibraltar girl"

"And from there where do we make for?"

McGregor smiled malevolently.

"Tell me, what do you know of Singapore?"

It may have intimidated Lúcia to know that her animated exchange with McGregor was being observed with reluctant interest by Captain Teague. Having worked on his charts and accounts for the majority of the day he had gruffly conceded that he needed to escape his sweltering cabin and stretch his sea legs. Though he was loath to admit it he had been a little on edge all day and, determined to blame his inexplicable frustration on the increasing dryness and scorching temperature of the approaching North African air, had grudgingly emerged onto the quarter deck. The effects of the sea breeze had been immediate and he had been feeling distinctly more at ease when a figure in a red dress had hurtled across the deck and emptied the contents of her stomach down the side of his vessel.

Ignoring the unwelcome feelings of concern that arose in him he was about to remove himself from the scene in defiance of his completely uncharacteristic actions from the previous night when he was, infuriatingly, rendered unable to as she turned in response to McGregor's intervention.

He had already established that Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques was attractive but seeing her for the first time in relative light made him understand somewhat why his men insisted that the lack of women at sea caused insanity and hallucinations that impeded their work.

She had removed the tie from her hair which now tumbled wildly past her shoulders and fluttered gently in the breeze. The evening glow of the sunset brought out the honey tones in her olive skin and the chestnut streaks in her curls. Additionally her dress had clearly taken a severe beating and was extremely tattered around the bottom and ripped across one shoulder, exposing a generous amount of tanned collarbone and slim ankle which contrasted alluringly against the dark red print of the fabric. Though Edward Teague would never admit it he always had had a penchant for exotic and unique items and Lúcia Maria Catarina de Marques definitely fell under this description. He forced his gaze away and glanced around at his crew; many of them were looking at her with somewhat hungry expressions. Unable to stand it any longer he marched over to the stairs that led down to the lower deck where the first mate and passenger were conversing.

"McGregor!"

McGregor and Lúcia jumped and McGregor spun round immediately.

"Aye Cap'n?"

"My cabin now!"

With that Teague marched back into his gallery and took a deep breath. McGregor joined him seconds later.

"Cap'n?"

"I want you to summon the crew and tell them that we head directly for the Moroccan coast to replenish our supplies, we will aim for one of the French trading ports to see what we might… acquire there."

"Aye Ca.."

"AND that any scurvy cur that does not pull his due weight will be left in the northern desert to find his way in life off of this vessel."

"You are… displeased with the way in which the crew are going about their duties?"

"I might be…"

McGregor fought a smile.

"Duly noted. I will remind them of your expectations as it were. I must say that Miss de Marques showed interest in our route…"

Teague grunted.

"Good. Sooner she's on her way the better."

"You intend to leave her in a Moroccan port?"

"What she intends to do with herself is of no concern to me so long as she leaves the Misty Lady at the earliest opportunity. Speaking of which I believe she may need something more appropriate to wear if she is to make herself useful savvy?"

McGregor nodded slowly.

"Aye, I expect there are some fabrics in the hull from that Dutch trading vessel we liberated three moons ago."

Teague nodded.

"Find her something to do that's out of my way."

"Aye Captain. Anything else?"

"No. Leave me."

McGregor nodded and made his way down to the storage hold, ducking his head to hide his grin. This girl had gotten Teague rightly riled up like even he had never seen before. Undoubtedly she was attractive but the captain had had many an attractive wench before and thought nothing of them after he'd left the tavern. He'd seen the crew looking at her like starving dogs and grimly noted that he'd have to keep a weather eye out for her, for some reason the girl impressed him enough for him to feel marginally responsible for her. He used an iron bar to pry open a crate and pulled out some lightweight, deep burgundy cloth which he draped over his arm. Scanning the hold he found the chest he was looking for and rummaged until he found the pair of work breeches that had belonged to a cabin boy who had disgraced the Misty Lady by bringing a wench on board and attempted to impress by sneaking into the Captain's Cabin. He had been thrown into a pig sty in the port and left to repent in the stinking mud; Teague had been feeling generous that day. They would be too big for the girl but they would have to do. Finally McGregor grabbed the crude sewing kit the crew used to repair their limited clothing on long voyages and made his way to the deck where Lúcia was sat with her knees drawn up to her chest as she stared out to sea. He dropped the offerings down in front of her and coughed gruffly.

"Here you are girl…"

Lúcia fingered the cloth in astonishment.

"For me?"

"Aye, this is a working ship and that dress is nigh on useless in that state…"

Lúcia blushed.

"Well what are you waiting for? I'm to put you to good use so you'd best get started. Can't have you climbing the rigging in those skirts now unless you don't mind being harassed by every man in this here crew…"

She shook her head, picked up the fabrics and hurried to her cabin.

Two hours later and Lúcia was rather proud of her craftsmanship. Having never been one for the more delicate pursuits such as embroidery and sewing it had taken some serious concentration and determination but the end result was fairly successful she decided. The heavy breeches had been a little large so she had sliced off some of the fabric from her dress to create a patterned red sash that now held the item up around her hips. Tucked into them was a loose shirt made from the dark burgundy cloth that McGregor had presented her with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a slashed neckline; the material was light, luxuriously soft and evidently had been stolen from a colonial fabric trader. Additionally she had ripped a strip of the thick, cream, lacy undercoat of the dress and used it to bind back her unruly hair which was now swept over one shoulder aside from the rouge curls that had already slipped out. Really, she thought, it was more practical than anything she had worn in her life; she may look like a pirate but there was a reason they dressed like so! At least she would be able to work unhindered by petticoats and perhaps blend in a little until she decided where to dismount the ship and being her new life. She looked through the window and was surprised to see that though she had lit a candle earlier the daylight had now gone entirely; did McGregor intend to begin instructing her in her duties now or should she wait until morning?

_I don't even know where he is currently!_

Suddenly she realised that it was a fantastic excuse for her to tour the ship properly. She hadn't seen anything of the Misty Lady yet aside from her cabin and the lower deck and couldn't deny that she was itching to explore.

_What if Teague takes offense to me snooping about?_

She shook her head and pushed the thought to the side as she opened the door and peered out hesitantly.

"He never said I couldn't after all…"

Cautiously she slipped outside. The deck was quiet apart from several lone pirates, in what she supposed must be look out points, with the ambience of the crashing waves and billowing sails masking the sound of the door shutting. She peered down a staircase that led to the lower levels and heard the sound of snoring pirates. Stifling a laugh she slowly made her way up to stairways and headed towards the stern of the ship; she noticed that a door on the quarter deck was slightly ajar with the glow of candlelight illuminating the entrance. Curiosity piqued she crept along the deck and peered inside. The room was dully lit by the small candle flames but she could make out a desk covered in charts that appeared to be weighted down by bottles of amber liquid. In the centre of the cabin was a surprisingly large bed with an impressive wooden chest at the foot. It was the bed though that made her moan with jealousy; the night, or day as was more accurate, sleeping in the hammock had left her with extremely tight back and neck muscles.

"I don't take kindly to spying…"

Startled, Lúcia jumped then to her dismay felt her cheeks flush. Movement in her peripheral vision drew her to the corner of the room where she internally groaned as she noticed Captain Teague sitting in the relative gloom behind the desk. He leaned forwards and his face became illuminated by the candlelight as he scrutinized her. Determined not to be the first to look away she stuck her chin out defiantly.

"I wasn't spying. I was looking for McGregor."

"Is that so? He's at the wheel presently so I am afraid whatever dire matter it was that you needed to attend to will have to wait" Teague replied drily.

"He's going to put me to work and I didn't want him to think I was being idle."

Teague raised an eyebrow in apparent amusement.

"If I might make an observation you seem almost excited by the prospect Miss de Marques. Fancy yourself as a pirate?"

"No" she replied quickly. "It's just… I don't…" she straightened up and glared at him "I am used to being useful _Captain_ Teague. I've never been one to sit back and watch life pass by and I have no intention of starting to do so now!"

Teague grinned somewhat nastily.

"Well then, you can start at dawn."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Lúcia turned on her heel and made for the exit. However a memory came back to her and she stopped in the doorframe.

"What is the pirate code? _Captain_."

Teague narrowed his eyes at her.

"The code is the law" he replied harshly.

Sensing that she had heartily overstayed her welcome she dragged her gaze away from his and fled the room as nonchalantly as possible.

Teague stared at the space in the doorway where Lúcia had been for a few long moments before forcing himself to look away. Where the blazes had she heard about the code? He would have to have words with McGregor he decided; after all it wasn't as though she was destined to be a pirate therefore she had no business in knowing the lore of piracy! Irritated he pulled his shirt off and lay on the bed trying his absolute best to purge his mind of the images of olive skinned, dark eyed figures with shapely legs and deep red shirts and drifted off into an unsettled slumber.

**Thoughts? Love it or hate it please let me know so I can improve…**


	4. Hard Work and Harmony

**This is so overdue it's embarrassing. I am so sorry for the wait! I have just been mentally busy but I will try update faster.**

***usual disclaimer***

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews! Keep at it because that's where the motivation comes from! Enjoy!**

* * *

"De Marques…"

Lúcia stirred in her hammock fitfully.

"De Marques. DE MARQUES!"

Lúcia awoke with a start and for the second time in as many days found herself in an ungraceful heap on the cabin floor. Moodily she looked up and recognized the red headed pirate laughing hysterically at her as a member of the crew. She was beginning to really hate that hammock. Summoning as much dignity as she could she picked herself up glaring pointedly at him as he calmed himself down. Eventually he gained his breath back enough to address her in what she recognized as an Irish brogue.

"You are wanted by the Quartermaster on the starboard side of lower deck in ten minutes. I use the term 'wanted' loosely, demanded that you be there is more how it was.

With a final grin he made his leave from the cabin. Lúcia quickly pulled herself together, drank some water then used a strip of the remaining fabric as a headscarf to hold her, now completely unruly, hair back before running down to lower deck, ignoring the aching kinks in her neck and back. There she sought out McGregor who was leaning against the wooden railing nonchalantly.

"Nine minutes Miss De Marques. You do like to take risks don't you? Another sixty seconds and I'd have had to give you a dunking as punishment for laziness and subversion!"

Unsure as to whether he was joking or not she gave him a cautious smile.

"Don't you look at me like that Missy. The Captain tells me you want to be 'useful' and the way I see it working on this ship makes you a part of the crew therefore it only be fitting that you are treated like a part of the crew!"

He turned and walked slowly down the deck. Recovering from her mild dumbstruck reaction she hurriedly followed him.

"So… what is it exactly I am to do?"

McGregor came to a sudden stop then looked upwards.

"JOSOA!"

For a moment nothing happened then without warning a rope dropped from the rigging above and a figure slid down it landing with surprising grace on the deck in front of them. The man was without a doubt one of the most curious individuals she had ever seen. Completely barefoot and of shorter than average height, his dark skin was matched by the deep brown of his eyes and black, intricately braided hair stuck out at all angles held back only by a richly embroidered bandana. A black tunic covered his torso but his heavily tattooed arms were exposed to the elements and though he was not brawny the muscle definition was evident to see. Baggy, tattered green breeches hung down to his calves where they were drawn tight by cords and a leather band adorned with various knives and pouches was slung across his chest and over one shoulder.

"Girl this is Josoa, the Boatswain of the Misty Lady"

Josoa stared at her suspiciously with intelligent eyes as Lúcia attempted a careful smile.

"It has come to the attention of the captain that Lúcia here wants to see more of the ship. She is however under duress to make herself useful for the duration of her voyage so as of this moment she is assigned as your subordinate."

He turned to Lúcia.

"If you want to make yourself useful on a pirate ship then you need to know the ship itself. Isn't that right Josoa?"

Josoa looked as though he was about to protest before buckling slightly under McGregor's steely gaze and nodding in acceptance.

"So it be"

Lucia noted that his speech was heavily accented with an inflection she was sure she had never before heard; it was almost musical. Apparently satisfied with Josoa's response McGregor wordlessly turned and marched away. Josoa shook his head then began to circle her in appraisal.

"You are small. This is a good thing. You sew dis shirt yourself?"

"Y… yes. Last night."

"De crew sayin' you saved the captain?"

"Well…"

"Or you bewitch him…."

"NO!"

"Dey do not want a woman on board…"

"Look will you please stop doing that?! And it's _Lúcia._"

Josoa stopped circling and flashed her a toothy grin. Gold teeth glinted in the sunshine.

"I no listen to such talk. I'm spendin' de most of me time in the riggings and the holds but I see what most do not. De captain, he intrigues you Miss Lúcia…"

"He's a pirate…"

"So am I. And so are you though it seems you do not know it yet."

He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment as she stood speechless.

"But you can sew and mend and you have de body for climbing."

Suddenly he grinned wickedly.

"Follow me Miss Lúcia and we will see how good an apprentice you be makin'!"

He swung himself round the mast and with astonishing speed and agility began to climb the rigging. Lúcia looked up and swallowed. It was very high…

_Come on girl you climbed a Jacob's Ladder in front of Teague! If anything this should be easier!_

She gritted her teeth, got a firm grip on the rope and slowly began her ascent. The wind was particularly strong that morning and the ropes swayed worryingly beneath her as her footholds slid around under her soft leather soles; she could see why Josoa chose to go barefoot! Though she was progressively getting higher the crow's nest still seemed impossibly far up.

_McGregor could be watching, TEAGUE could be watching. You can do this Lúcia…_

She clutched tighter at the rigging and climbed with determination. After what felt like an age she finally reached the crow's nest where strong, tattooed arms reached down and hauled her the remaining few feet. Her knees gave way a little as she slumped down onto the solid base of the lookout; she could swear she could hear McGregor laughing below. Looking up she noticed that Josoa was eying her with an expression of amusement and, could it be, approval. She smiled weakly in return.

Josoa's eyes sparkled with laughter.

"You need to climb swift girl, but you made it to de top and that is a start!"

He extended his hand to her which, after a slight hesitation, she took hold of and was promptly hauled to her feet. As her eyes adjusted to the glaring morning sunshine she allowed herself for the first time a proper look at the view; either side of the ship the azure ocean stretched for miles and miles. It was absolutely breath-taking.

"De climb is worth it no?"

Lúcia nodded expressively.

"Now Miss Lúcia. What do ye know about boats?"

* * *

As the day went on it became apparent to her that Josoa knew absolutely everything there was to know about boats; from the knots in the rigging to the barnacles on the hull. Impossibly strong and unbelievably agile he was responsible for the maintenance and repairs to the Misty Lady as well as the supply stores therefore knew every inch of her inside and out. As he flooded Lúcia with a wealth of information she did her best to follow and retain it which was no easy feat as Josoa was as difficult to keep up with physically as he was to keep up with mentally. After four hours of constant climbing, scaling, swinging, crawling and hauling she was feeling completely beaten as she leant against the mast for support.

_It's funny though that even though I am exhausted I don't think I have ever felt this invigorated!_

Josoa interrupted her musings as he landed in front of her with a light clunking noise.

"I must make me report to de Captain now. There is food in your cabin… and I bet you be wantin' to sit down no?"

He flashed her a gold-glinted, knowing grin as she tried her best not to crumple with relief in front of him and headed back towards her cabin gratefully.

"Oh and Miss Lúcia?"

She turned, surprised, back to Josoa whose grin widened even further.

"You climb good."

Teague triple checked his coordinates as he waited for Josoa to make his daily report regarding the state of the Misty Lady. Presently he heard an energetic knock on his cabin door.

"Enter"

Josoa came springing through the door as expected with a wide grin on his face. Teague groaned inwardly as he recognized the extra zeal in the Madagascan man's step and demeanour; he had hoped that subjecting Lúcia to a day of physical tasks would put her off life on board the Misty Lady and irritate one of the most respected members of his crew thus strengthening the hostility against her. However, judging by the boatswain's mood, his plan had somewhat backfired.

"What have you to report Josoa?"

Josoa smiled somewhat excitedly.

"De girl has some salt about her! She climb all day follow me all about de ship up and down, keepin' up good. She very agile!"

"I meant the ship's report Josoa!" Lúcia's agility was really not something he needed to hear about in detail…

"Oh. Yes. We be needin' some fresh rope from de next port for sure Captain and de lower decks need some work to stop de wood splittin'. I work on this today with two more yes?"

"Yes, fine. Take Franco and the girl."

Josoa smiled wickedly.

"De girl is strong Captain. She light too and learn fast. She make a good member of dis crew!"

"She is NOT a member of this crew Josoa she is simply earning her keep."

"She earned it good dis morning!"

"Glad to hear it. If you have nothing else to report then send McGregor in on your way out."

"Sure Captain. De girl has nice legs too no?"

"OUT Josoa."

Josoa laughed astutely and darted back out of the cabin. Teague knocked his head against the table with a dull thunk.

* * *

Lúcia lay flat across the wooden floor of her cabin. Never in her life had her muscles ached so much as they did in that very moment. She had tried to settle into that blasted hammock but after only a few minutes of discomfort she gave up on that situation entirely and had lowered herself onto the sweet, open relief of the deck. She groaned lightly as the breeze blew through the ajar cabin door tauntingly circulating the baking air of the cabin instead of bringing the coolness she desired. Not that she would ever give Teague the satisfaction of knowing that she was in slight discomfort… she snorted.

_Si, if you by 'slight discomfort' you mean that you feel as though you were trampled by a bull…_

Another wave of boiling air blew around the cabin. Defeated, she mustered all of her remaining energy and hauled herself to her feet with a sharp inhale of breath. Slowly exhaling she forced her legs to walk slowly out of the cabin. The mild sea breeze hit her like the breath of an angel and for a moment she was unable to do anything but revel in the relative coolness it brought. As reality returned to her she became aware of a sound… no, not a sound, a beautiful, all-encompassing and complex piece of music. With a mind of their own her legs carried her towards the direction the beautiful melody was coming from. As it grew louder she became aware that a figure was leaning along the masthead playing some form of intricate instrument. A chill swept down her body as she suddenly and painfully became all too aware who the figure was.

Teague.

She threw herself behind the mast and let out a sharp moan as the sudden movement sent a spasm of pain through her limbs. The music stopped suddenly. Mustering all her courage, aided by the fact that she was hidden in the shadow of the great mast, she held her breath and slowly peered round to see Teague scanning the deck with narrowed eyes. The moonlight highlighted the regal structure of his cheekbones and the deep set of his eyes and Lúcia found herself unable to look away as he slowly relaxed and began again to move his sculpted, rough fingers across the strings of the instrument with unbelievable complexity.

Coming to her senses, Lúcia began to creep slowly back to the cabin telling herself that the hot flush she felt was simply due to the weather and the pain in her limbs. Unbeknownst to her dark, twinkling eyes watched her from the rigging above.

* * *

She had been in her cabin no more than ten minutes and was mentally preparing herself for the torture of the hammock when she heard a soft, melodic series of knocks on her door. She cautiously opened it before visibly relaxing when she realized that it was Josoa who treated her to an intelligent grin.

"My intuition tellin' me dat you be achin' a bit yes?"

"Oh, a little maybe…"

Josoa's grin widened impossibly.

"A little only? I suppose you don't be needin' dis den?"

He held out a small wooden container.

"I was thinkin' you might need some of dis soothin' balm from Josoa's home but…." He laughed at her panicked expression and handed her the tub. She smiled gratefully.

"Josoa you may be my favourite person upon this ship…"

"Oh I am not so sure about dat… You seem to be likin' the captain's music well enough"

He flashes her a final grin and chuckled at her fraught expression,

"Don't you worry Lúcia. Josoa won't say a word…"

And before she could recover her wits he bounded off into the night. Lúcia shook her head and lifted the lid of the container. A spicy, herbal smell rose from it and she experimentally ran her finger through the balm before massaging some into her shoulder. Slowly she felt relief spread through the joint. Her face melted into a smile and she made a mental note to make something amazing for Josoa before her time on the ship was up.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	5. Spies in Agadir

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a number of the characters. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Listen up you sea rats!"

The crew of the Misty Lady, including Lúcia who was assisting Josoa with his morning inspection, immediately turned towards McGregor who stood at the wheel. Apparently satisfied he had everybody's undivided attention he began to address the group.

"We make berth for Agadir and will arrive tomorrow at sundown! The Captain has business to attend to in the town and we are desperately in need of supplies. Those who will make for port are Josoa, Franco, Saraj and Lúcia whilst everyone who remains will be under my command as we… prepare. Now about your business!"

The crew cheered heartily and bustled back into action but Lúcia turned to Josoa and dubiously asked "prepare… prepare for what exactly?"

Josoa smiled wickedly "Well Lúcia, dis here is a _pirate _vessel. We be in de business of piracy you see and Agadir got a lot of trade dat we can… procure."

He winked at her, dropped backwards and swung himself back down to the deck. Lúcia grimaced to herself, annoyed that she hadn't anticipated this earlier.

_What did you expect? You boarded a pirate vessel for heaven's sake! Pillaging and 'procuring' are all part of the trade!_

She sighed in resignation.

_At least I get to feel dry land under my feet again! Maybe I will be able to avoid any actual raiding as such… it's not like I'm a real member of the crew after all…_

Realizing with mild horror that this thought made her feel rather melancholy she shook her head and climbed down to chase after Josoa.

_Honestly! Upset that I'm not a 'real' pirate. I should be relieved!_

* * *

Lúcia started at the market place in awe. Never had she seen such a sight! Lisbon was large, or so she had been told, but these stands and stalls seemed to go on endlessly. Or perhaps it was simply the sheer rowdiness of the place and the low hanging cloth that protected each stand from the evening Moroccan sun that gave it the illusion of vastness.

The group had rowed in silence a distance up the shore from where they had anchored the Misty Lady. Upon reaching land Teague had set off into the heart of the port without glancing behind, inexplicably his indifference to her was mildly infuriating but she had managed to shrug off the feeling as Josoa pressed some coin pieces into her hand and winked.

"Your earnings. Be back here by midnight or be left behind" and with that he lithely darted towards the harbour front with the other crew members. Lúcia had followed their direction at a slower pace before finding herself in the market. She slowly browsed around the stalls before settling upon her purchases. Naturally a hard, spicily scented soap was at the top of the list. The talkative merchant had also convinced her to buy some hair oils that he insisted were crucial for women undertaking long sea voyages as they stopped the hair splitting and drying out to death though she had managed to haggle the price down significantly. Finally she picked up some thick embroidery threads and wooden beads, Josoa seemed to have a penchant for bright things and she definitely owed him for the balm. Thankfully her muscles seemed to have conditioned to the hard work enough over the past week that she was stiff rather than sore.

She glanced up at the deep orange sun and noted that she had a little time left. A wash, she decided, was not so much an option as a complete necessity! She left the market and found what seemed to be a public house then, after some expressive gesturing and flashing of coin, managed to secure a room with a basin of water and a jug. She washed herself thoroughly before lathering the soap in her hands and working it into her hair then tipping the jug above her hair to rinse it through and roughly drying it with the cloth provided. She picked up the hair oil she had purchased and shrugged, it was worth a try! She tipped some into her hands and ran it smoothly into the lengths of her hair. Finally she washed her hands, dressed, put her purchases in her sash and made for the archway that opened onto the street. A figure passed through the opening and slipped down a narrow side passage. She frowned as she recognized it as Franco, the surly ship's carpenter who she had helped work the decks with alongside Josoa the other day.

Something made her hesitate before she called out to him. He looked… suspicious somehow; as though he was trying not to draw attention to himself by keeping to the shadows and watching his back. A chill swept through her body.

_Stay away. Just stay away, you have absolutely NO reason to follow him just get back to the ship!_

Conflicted, she sighed in frustration before following him. She rounded the corner just in time to see Franco flit sideways down a path. Panicking, she looked about before climbing up onto one of the low, flat roofs of the buildings and crept as fast as she could in the direction he had gone in. From the pattern of the buildings she realized that he must have hit a dead end; it looked like a small courtyard. She kept low and slowly lay at the edge of the roof, looking down. Immediately she saw Franco skulking in a corner thankfully paying attention to the doors of one of the buildings.

Lúcia held her breath and presently the door opened and a man in a dark coat exited and scanned the courtyard.

"Ah Mister Franco I believe."

Franco grunted in response.

"I will take that as an affirmative shall I?" He took a moment to adjust his dark gloves and coat collar as Lúcia marvelled at how he stood the heat in that attire.

"I'm glad, if somewhat, surprised to see you have shown your face this time. We were beginning to think that Teague was setting this up himself to draw us away from his revolting scent. If you will tell me please where you were born and your father's profession as a mark of good faith please?"

Franco glared a moment before answering.

"Santa Domingo, my Padre was a fisherman."

The man appraised him for a moment.

"Indeed. You didn't think we would work with you without confirmation of identity now did you?"

Franco narrowed his eyes.

"You know my terms. Safe passage to the Caribbean and…"

"And the money you have been promised yes I am quite aware. Both of which you will receive upon the completion of your task at which you have so far failed. By all accounts your plot in Lisbon was sloppy at best and as for London…"

"Teague is a clever man! He is difficult to trick and trusting of nobody" Franco spat.

"Be that as it may you will receive no compensation until he is dead."

Lúcia's heart skipped a beat. Franco was trying to murder Teague!

"He cannot know it was my doing! The crew will surely kill me if they find out."

"Yes this has been taken under consideration. As have your failures to succeed. As much as it galls me to cooperate with a _pirate" _his eyes hardened in distaste at the word "we need somebody who is able to get close to him." He pulled out a small vial from inside his coat. Franco stared at it warily.

"Poison, Mister Franco. Virtually undetectable and produces symptoms reminiscent of Jungle Fever."

Franco opened his mouth to protest but faltered under the man's steely glare.

"As Captain I would presume he eats alone?"

Franco nodded once.

"Good. Pour this into his beverage of choice. By that I mean his drink… and send word of your success when next you dock. Naturally we will need some kind of confirmation."

"The body will most likely be buried at sea. If Teague is dead then word will spread like a fire."

"Be that as it may a relic would be taken as a mark of good faith. His piece of eight maybe…"

Lúcia frowned, piece of eight?

Franco took the bottle carefully and stashed it in a pouch attached to his belt. The man eyed him stonily.

"Mister Franco do not fail this time otherwise we will consider alternate means and you will receive neither mercy nor compassion." With that final statement the man left the courtyard. Franco seemed to gather himself for a moment and glanced heavenward. Lúcia gasped and dropped flat to the roof. A few moments passed and she bravely peered back into the courtyard. Franco was gone. Relief turned to horror as she heard a noise behind her, somebody was climbing up to her roof.

Without a second thought Lúcia quickly lowered herself bodily into the courtyard, dropping the last few meters. She felt a jagged pain splice up her ankle and stifled a scream as she mustered all her fiber and threw herself into the cover of a doorway. Glancing up she noticed Franco scanning the courtyard from the exact position she had been in with his sword drawn. After what seemed like an age he grunted, sheathed his sword and left. Lúcia's heart pounded in her ears as she slumped to the ground with a small whimper. Her ankle was throbbing! She glanced at the moon and realized with horror that she had very little time to return to the boat otherwise she would be stranded in Agadir!

With a sharp grimace of pain she heaved herself up and, using the wall for support, made her way back out to the street. She leaned against the archway to catch her breath feeling hot tears in her eyes as she prepared to work her way down the dock and back up to where the boat was moored. Just as she was about to embark she was literally swept off her feet into a pair of arms. Lúcia yelped in protest as her assailant stormed into a nearby building and lowered her, surprisingly gently, onto a table then lit a candle which illuminated his features.

Teague. She should have known.

He placed the candle on the table and stared her impassively for a long moment. Unable to stand the tension she blurted out "Franco is trying to kill you! I saw the whole thing! In a courtyard, back there I can show you, he met with a man who gave him poison. POISON! I think he saw me up there, or at least realized someone was there, so I jumped off the roof and hid but he left. I was trying to get back to the boat to tell you but it's late so I was worried I had missed it!"

Realizing she was rambling she forced herself to silence and trembling tried to read Teague's expression. He moved his way round the table and gently placed his hand around her ankle. She flinched in pain and he glanced at her with burning eyes.

"You are injured."

"Yes I landed on it when I dropped from the roof. Listen though it was Franco in Lisbon too and he tried something in London!"

"I am well aware; I've been following him all night."

Lúcia stared at him. He chuckled dryly.

"I saw the whole thing Miss De Marques. The scoundrel, or the other scoundrel I should say, in the courtyard was Edmund Pointer, a representative of the East India Company who is disposed to kill me."His voice softened slightly "I saw you there too. You were commendably sneaky but may I ask what it was that brought you there exactly?"

"I saw him and he looked like he was up to no good."

"So you followed him?"

"Um… yes."

Teague fixed her with an exasperated, angry stare.

"You are completely incorrigible! Did you never stop to think it might be dangerous? Look at the state of your ankle! Pointer is ruthless; he would have killed you in a heartbeat if he had seen you!"

"He would have killed you faster than that!"

"He would have tried." Teague sighed. "Tonight you slipped and hurt your ankle in the market. Much to my disapproval I was forced to assist you back to the boat due to my oath as a code abiding man to give you safe passage as far as Bombay." As she began to protest he looked at her meaningfully and raised his voice "I spent my time liberating the trading schedules to ascertain which vessels are worth our time to pillage and have found a number of impressive luxury goods and weapon shipments that we will attend to in the next few days."

"What about Franco?"

"I know men like Franco. It will take him a day to muster the courage but he will make his move tomorrow night by putting the poison in my wine."

"Will you kill him before he has a chance?"

"No. I will publicly shame him by making him drink the wine in front of the entire crew..."

"… and in doing so make it clear what happens to traitors."

The corner of Teague's mouth lifted.

"You are full of surprises Miss De Marques."

"It's Lúcia."

Teague nodded slowly "Okay. Lúcia If you would be so kind as to place your arm around my neck." Gingerly she did so. Once he was sure she was secure Teague swiftly lifted her up into his arms in one fluid movement and made his way almost effortlessly out of the building and back down the dock trying not to notice the sweet, spiced smell of her now silky curls or the contours of her curves. Her accented voice broke his reverie.

"How did you know to follow Franco?"

"I knew a member of my crew must be betraying me. The men who left the Misty lady today are the ones who I was suspicious of doing so."

She was quiet for a moment before asking "Josoa?"

He ignored the pang of jealousy in his gut and answered "No. Josoa is the boatswain and one of the greatest men I know. He always makes port if we need rope or materials. I followed the men who went with him and it was Franco who made an excuse of sending a letter to leave the group. He asked me for a larger share of our plunder as both doctor and carpenter some time ago which I put to a vote. He was rejected and since has had little respect for me."

"A vote?"

"Aye. Pirates are more democratic than we would like others to believe. Now I ask you to act like a simpering wench who is unable to withstand the pain in her ankle and pretend to be unconscious. We are nearing the boat."

Lúcia almost protested before slumping a little in his arms and closing her eyes. Presently she felt Teague stop.

"Damned wench slipped in the market. Help me get her in the boat."

A lot of jostling and swearing occurred then Lúcia felt the rhythmic movement of a boat being rowed.

"Why did you bring her back? Don't glare at me like that Josoa you of all of us should know she is a nuisance and a distraction! You should have left her there Captain!"

"You would defy the Code Franco? If so leave you may leave this vessel immediately!"

"It's not right!"

"And yet you are the only one protesting. Another word and I will leave you to the sharks!"

Silence remained for the rest of the journey. Further jostling commenced as a rope was tied to her and she was lifted to the deck where Teague immediately lifted her into his arms.

"Josoa take Franco and begin to reassemble the rigging with the new ropes! McGregor with me now!"

Teague strode up to his cabin where Lúcia felt herself lain onto a soft surface.

"The door McGregor."

The door shut with a bang. Lúcia opened her eyes and sat up to find McGregor eying her with a humorous expression.

"Slipped in the market? Womanly to be sure but does not quite fit with Josoa's accounts of your reflexes and balance eh Captain?"

Teague smirked then filled McGregor in on the evening's events. The first mate swore with gusto.

"I knew something was up! That miserable snake!"

"Indeed. We have a problem in that we are unsure as to whether he recognized Lúcia or not so I must ask that she not be left unattended to the mercy of Franco."

McGregor nodded "aye. Myself or Josoa will remain with her until he is dealt with."

"Publically. Tomorrow night. He will drink the wine in front of the crew as a deterrent of future actions."

McGregor smiled nastily. "That'll about do it to be sure."

The two men became aware of soft breathing from the bed. Lúcia had succumbed to sleep as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. McGregor smiled knowingly at the soft expression on the young captain's face.

"She did well tonight."

"That she did. McGregor she showed loyalty equal to any member of this crew."

"Aye? Maybe we will make a pirate of her yet."

Teague frowned "Her ankle may be broken. Don't let her play down the pain."

"You will have to let Franco look at it. He is the ship's doctor and it'd look suspicious otherwise. He would suspect."

The creases in Teague's forehead deepened "You're right. But you will stay whilst he does so."

"I'll keep an eye on him to be sure, starting now actually. He had a foul look on his face and I could tell Josoa was angry with him. Night Captain." McGregor left the room and Teague turned back to Lúcia's sleeping form. Unwilling to leave her alone despite keeping Franco occupied he settled into his chair and began to reflect on the night's events as he began his watch.

* * *

**PHEW! This one literally came out of nowhere. I will update when I can but my real job gets in the way a little. **


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